


The Sun On My Shoulders

by Supernova_Ashes



Category: Degrassi
Genre: Chronic Illness, M/M, triles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6163542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernova_Ashes/pseuds/Supernova_Ashes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles seems to be waging a war with his father, his body, and his heart and soon sees that Tristan is more to him than just a port in the storm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first AO3 fiction  
> This is my first Degrassi work  
> English is not my first language  
> Apologies for whatever needs apologies  
> Please leave kudos or comments and I shall surely be motivated to write more

I can see why Maya left me. It's really dreadful that she had, but it's understandable.

I still struggle with letting her go, though. They say that when you're in love, your brain activity is similar to what it would be if you were on a powerful cocaine trip. Maya was like the one thing about my life that I could look forward to. Now, I'm coming off of that high and if I didn't know any better, I'd say that I was going through withdrawal.

It was you're typical Thursday morning. With the election campaign nearing it's pivotal point, the stress was starting to get to my Dad pretty badly. Everything had to be perfect, and even if I hadn't done anything, he was making damn sure that I wouldn't by constantly stepping at my heels.

I had another dream about Maya that night, and couldn't bring myself to fall asleep. It didn't help that my stomach was hurting. I don't remember eating anything funny. Come to think of it, I haven't been eating much at all, except for marijuana-munchies induced gelato and pad thai binges. So I overslept, long story short...

"Miles! Wake up! You're going to be late for school," My dad yelled as he barged into my room. "Get your head out your ass, and get moving! Poor attendance reflects badly." He left just as abruptly as he came in. I flinched ever so slightly as the door slammed and rattled the whole room.

I remember going over to Maya's house, and meeting her mom. I remember that even when her mom was less than happy with Maya, whatever she'd say, there would be feeling, or tenderness... love behind her eyes. My dad's whole demeanour was as though ice flowed through his veins. If he didn't leave me feeling pissed when he was done dealing with me, I'd just feel chills.

I hopped half-lucidly to my en suite and had a quick shower. I mindlessly threw on my navy blue button up and dark wash jeans. I didn't care for breakfast, so I ran down to the living room for the few minutes before the time we'd usually leave.

"Miles, you should get something in your stomach, breakfast is the most important meal of the day," my mom said.

"I'm not hungry," I replied in a barely audible grumble. "I'll have some coffee from the caff, or something..."

"Trying to watch your figure?" Hunter teased. That came out of nowhere. He's usually so quiet.

"I wouldn't advise it, Miles. You're body barely matches that fat head as it is, imagine if you had a slight figure!" Frankie joined, giving a high five to Hunter as they laughed. I just looked away.

"Guys, stop," my mom gently admonished. She came into the living room from the kitchen to where I stood, handing me a black one of those coffee thermos things filled with whatever lavish caffeinated concoction the Keurig brewed. She squinted as she put a hand to my jaw, gently steadying my head so she could examine what I could only assume is a pale face with racoon eyes from the sleepless night I had. "Honey," she said as she brought the hand down to my shoulder, "are you feeling okay?"  
What was I to say? I'm so miserable over Maya, I can't sleep and I feel sick to my stomach?

"I'm fine," I lied. Not that it really mattered whether or not I was fine. I haven't been fine since the first time I disappointed my dad. It was always more convenient for her to turn a blind eye. She stood by that asshole, and inherited some of the rift between he and I.

That day was one of those odd days when my dad drove Hunter, Frankie and I to school. It was assumed it was because he wanted to give Colin, our driver a break. But I know it's because he was expecting the press to catch him being a father to his children. Before stepping out of the car he told me not to do anything stupid through gritted teeth. I told him to fuck off.

I had math first period, and I took to sipping the caramel latte (from the thermos) to keep me awake. Mr. Johansen was doing a review of the third chapter in preparation for the test on Monday. It was simple enough.

"I don't think I understood anything..." Tristan confessed, sitting to the left of me and frantically flipping through his text book "do you?" I couldn't help but find his little fit of panic kind of funny and found myself smiling for the first time in days.

"I do..."

"Would you mind having a quick study session with me over the weekend? My parents are going to take my phone away if I can't pull my grades up and I will die if that happens."

"Sure, how about tomorrow after school?"

"It's a date," he said smiling. Then frowning for a quick second and flushing with an awkward smile. "I meant it in the way you say the saying... it's not a date date..."

"It's a date," I reiterated with a chuckle. "Text me," I said as the bell rang and we went our separate ways.

At lunch, Winston had made plans to eat with Frankie, and said I was welcome to sit with them, but I was nauseous enough without having to watch my best friend cozying up to my little sister. I told them I had to go catch up on some homework. Which is a lie. Homework is a more than welcome distraction from... my dad, Maya... I'm ahead if anything.

My stomach was still hurting, and was now starting to cramp painfully, so I found a bench out by the garden for me to lay on until it was time for class. I felt like there were knots below my navel. I had to be careful not to put too much pressure as I clutched my stomach, it was almost sore to the touch. It was getting to be too much.

I met Frankie at her locker, just as she was kissing Winston goodbye. I made a point of giving them a dirty look. Frankie gave me a look of concern in return.

"Miles, are you okay?"

"...Do you have any painkillers on you... or indigestion tablets?" My voice sounded a little strained.  
"Maybe you should go home..."

"I'll be fine, Frankenstein. But some tablets would go a long way to making the day less long."

She handed me some Tylenol and bought me a ginger ale from the vending machine to sip on to help settle my stomach. It took the edge off, thankfully. The rest of the day was uneventful.

Sometime around 3 am that night - actually it was exactly 3:08 am, I was staring at my alarm clock, I got a text from Tristan.

Tristan: U awake?

Me: Yes

Tristan: Y?

Me: I dunno

Me: I could ask you the same question

Tristan: I had a nightmare

Me: Me 2

Me: What was in your dream?

Tristan: I dreamed I was in a cemetery, and there was a tombstone for all of my friends and family.

Miles: I couldn't imagine you ever dying alone, Tris. There's no one I know more worthy of love than you.

Tristan: Thank you :)

Tristan: What did you dream?

Me: I was in medieval prison tower, guarded by a fire breathing dragon

Tristan: you just need to remember that you're a warrior capable of slaying that dragon

Miles: Thanks, Tris.

Suddenly, I was exhausted and eased into a restful sleep. Something about Tristan was soothing. Everything was always so easy with him. He was quickly becoming my new best friend.

It rained on Friday. The remnants of winter were melting and now washing away. I woke to a silvery sky and gentle grumbles of thunder, and faint flashes of lightning. My life seemed to coincide with the weather.

I just wanted it to be the weekend, so I was up early. I headed down to the kitchen for breakfast once I was dressed. My dad greeted me impersonally as I joined him, my mom and my sister at the breakfast table. He was preoccupied with his emails on his phone. As soon as Hunter arrived, my mom announced that she and my dad were going on an impromptu business trip over the weekend. "Not that it needs to be said, but no parties, got it Miles?"

He pissed me off. Without realizing it, my fingers were digging into my lap. "Got it," he asked more sternly. "Yes..." I finally answered through gritted teeth.

"Miles, finish up your breakfast dear," my Mom said, trying to end the pissing contest. Even though they pissed me off, I did what they said anyway. I was choosing my battle, and they were going to be out of my hair before school ended anyway.

By the time first period came around, that breakfast of whole wheat blueberry waffles, bacon and sausage felt as rich as it was. It was painfully unsettled, and by the way Tristan looked at me in math class, I had to have been at least a little green. Half way through class, I had to ask for the hall pass. 

The cramps didn't let up through social studies either. I had to swallow my pride and call mom. But she wasn't answering.

"Dad... Can you pick me up? I'm not feeling well."

He had company when he took that call because he kindly agreed. He seemed to be less of a douche bag that day.

"Do I need to take you to the doctor?" he asked, filling the awkward silence.

"No, it's just indigestion, dad..." I had to have sounded annoyed. "I'd rather deal with it in the privacy of my own bathroom." 

"...Alright." He looked over from the driver's seat and pursed his lips at me. "I'm sorry you aren't feeling well."

We stopped by the pharmacy to get indigestion tablets. My dad dropped me off at home and returned to work, letting me know that mom would be home as soon as she finished her mud bath and shiatsu. Some time after taking the tablets, I felt a little better and slept for the rest of the afternoon. Tristan sent me a text to see if I was doing better, and we made plans to study together Saturday night.

Frankie and Winston went ahead and had a movie date night in the living room. Hunter sort of locked himself in his room and worked on his assignment for a while before gaming and metal music. So Tristan and I went in the kitchen. I wasn't very hungry, but Tristan was, so he made himself an omelet with a strawberry and banana smoothie.

"Something smells good," Frankie exclaimed, as she entered the room, Winston not too far behind. 

"Would you like some? Miles?" he asked gesturing towards the pot.

"There are tomatoes and onions in there, I wouldn't if I were you..." Winston warned. I felt my cheeks get warm.

"Winston, don't -"

"Miles has terrible gas when he eats them." Fuck Winston.

"Oh..." Tristan said awkwardly.

"It's okay I'm not really hungry..."

Tristan split the omelet between Frankie and him, Winston stealing a few bites here and there. I felt kind of uncomfortable, and Tristan noticed, smiling empathetically at me. After tackling some of the difficulty Tristan had with the subject matter on Monday's test, Tristan and I went down to the garden to just hang out. I brought my iPad so we could listen to Oasis, while we just hung out.

"I have a sensitive stomach... It sort of flares up when I'm stressed or if I eat certain foods. It's really embarrassing," I felt the need to say.

"Miles, don't be embarrassed... it's okay," he reassured me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I smiled nervously at him.

"Thanks, Tris. Everything is always so easy with you..."

"I wouldn't exactly put it that way... but thanks." We smiled at each other.

"I know why I'm not talking to Maya anymore... But why aren't you talking to Maya?"

"Um...it's kind of a long story..."

He was withdrawn all of a sudden. Like he'd been physically hurt. "We don't have to talk about it, Tris it's..." Tears began streaming down his face. "Hey..." I soothed him. Next thing I knew I had my arms around him. When he calmed down, he came out of our hug and he took deep breaths.

"This is going to sound really fucked up... But I had an affair with Mr.Yates..."

I was silent for a moment, trying to process what he'd just said. "I have to say that's... Yeah..."

"Maya went and told Simpson and ruined everything... I mean, I get that it wasn't exactly legal, but... I really cared for him."

"Oh, Tristan..."

"He was done with me as soon as he got suspended and was under investigation."

"I'm sorry... You deserve better than him, Tristan. He took advantage of you."

A sob escaped his lips. "I've never been able to acknowledge that..."

My eyes were starting to well up, seeing how what I said tore away the last shred of his heart. 

We went into my room so he could relax and talk more privately.

Tristan borrowed my en suite to rinse the salt off his cheeks. I invited him to stay the night and watch movies. We fell asleep on my bed. It was probably the most peaceful sleep I've had in years.

***

"MILES BARTHOLOMEW THADDEUS HOLLINGSWORTH THE THIRD!"

Oh fuck. I really wasn't in the mood for his bullshit today. I overheard my mom try to calm him down, and come up to my room to speak to me herself.

"Miles, we got a call from school saying you missed two classes today. I thought we spoke to you about improving your attendance," she said as she was stepping into my room. Then she furrowed her brows. I must have been looking pretty bad, curled up in the foetal position, arms wrapped around my stomach and wincing. The cramps had been so intense, I just took a cab home. Frankie poked her head through the crack of the door, looking worried herself.

"Honey, are still getting stomach aches?" I just nodded slightly. "Can you get me a hot water bottle?"  
I felt so helpless... I hated it. When my mom came back with the bottle, she asked me if I had one of my trigger foods; broccoli, peppers, spicy food, rich foods, tomatoes, onions... I told her I'd barely had anything to eat over the past couple of days and when I did, my stomach would start hurting even more. She felt my cheeks and forehead, and had me swallow some Tylenol because a was running a bit of a fever. She made an appointment with the doctor.


	2. Chapter 2

My mother got me in to see Dr. Jacobson the following Tuesday but luckily by then my symptoms had lessened... Maybe just a little dizzy. Okay... Maybe my guts were still in knots, but I could deal with that. It was ignorable with a good doob and sticking to lighter meals... Which was kind of hard to do when you already just got the munchies.

"So, you've been feeling lethargic, with recurring abdominal pain, and bouts of diarrhea?" My mom gave me a bit of a look as the doctor had asked me that, because, I wasn't exactly forthcoming on that aspect of my recent digestive ordeals, but when the nurse was making notes for Dr. Jacobson, I didn't deny that the hall pass was soon becoming my latest fashion accessory. The doctor basically gave me free reign on anti-diarrheal medicine, and suspecting that stress was the culprit, told me I needed to relax. He put in a request for a consultation with a gastroenterologist that I probably wouldn't see for another five weeks.

I couldn't get through that appointment without at least some passive aggressive dig or sarcastic comment. It pissed off my Mom, and on the rainy drive home she was tense, mostly looking out the window at the April showers as the driver manoeuvred the car through Toronto traffic. She suddenly turned to me, as though her heavy thoughts culminated into words and asked "what's giving you so much stress?"

"Don't worry about it, Mom." I tried to focus on my phone.

"You're losing sleep, you're appetite is all over place, and you're missing school, so I will damn well make it my business, Miles, I'm your mother." She pulled the phone from my hands.

"You don't actually want to know what's stressing me out."

"Miles," she began, her voice softening, her hand caressing my cheek, then falling to my shoulder, "of course I want to know. I love you, honey, and want you to feel better."

"Dad is an insufferable dick. And all he cares about is that stupid election, not his vow to be a husband to you, or me or anything really."

"Honey, don't say that. Your father loves you. He isn't perfect, but this election means a lot to him..."

"I told you, you wouldn't want to know."

It got eerily quiet. I felt bad for the driver having to hear that. My Mom needed a few moments to repair the fissure I'd made in her perfect little denial bubble, so she could go back to sipping on wine and pretending that this was simply a lamentation of teenaged angst and rebellion and that my father's indiscretions were a small price to pay for all the luxuries it afforded her.

The sad reality of it all sank heavily and weighed on my stomach, it began to gurgle slightly. I rubbed light circles on my stomach to help ease the ache. I craved a joint.

...

Around 4 o'clock, the doorbell rang. I was groggy. I had showered - the warm water helps soothe the cramps - but I was still looking a bit dishevelled in my sweat pants and an open robe over a bare chest and shoulders with my bangs falling to my eyebrows. I opened the door to a smiling Tristan, who's grin quickly lost all enthusiasm as the sight of me wasn't my best moment.

"Hey, Miles... I brought your homework over..." 

I don't really believe in shame, but I was a little embarrassed. I invited him in and led him to the living room.

"I volunteered to be your partner for our history project, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. I'm glad. I couldn't think of a better partner," I said, smiling at him. Tristan sort of looked to the side then looked back into my eyes with a goofy smile.

"Have a seat," I said, trying to work through this weirdness I can't describe.

"How are you feeling?"

"I think I'm going to be coming back to school tomorrow. My stomach ache is less bad."

I drew circles on my belly as I getting this odd sensation, though it wasn't painful... It was like butterflies. The more I peered into Tristan's eyes the more they fluttered.

"Did you have any plans tonight? Maybe we could do our homework together and you can stay for dinner," I offered.

"Sure!" 

We both got up to collect our books to bring it to the study, but before we took them, I pulled Tristan into a hug. Reluctantly at first, he hugged me back. "What's the hugging about," he asked, a touch of silliness behind his question.

"Thank you for doing this for me... It means a lot." I was truly grateful. There was this stinging loneliness that hung over my head all the time, but I never felt that way next to Tristan. He was quickly becoming my favourite friend. The hug was a little longer than it needed to be. "You smell good," Tristan commented as he gently pulled away.

And then I felt this kind of feeling that reminded me of Paris. This sort of different fondness that I couldn't put my finger on. His blue eyes stared back, looking for whatever the hell could've been going on behind mine in my mind, and of that, I was barely sure. And I slowly inched closer to him, as though the cerulean blue gems in his eyes were magnetic. And my lips began to curve into a puckered form. And the call of his eyes...

...Was soon interrupted by the sound of my father's leather shoes walking through the house, getting louder as he was getting closer. I pulled away, sighing in frustration.

"Hello," he greeted Tristan like a politician.

"Hi, Mr Hollingsworth..." Tristan was a bit flush.

"Dad, Tristan brought my homework and we're working on a history project together..."

"That's nice of him. Thank you Tristan."

"I invited him to stay for dinner."

"Just let Rubella know to set up an extra plate. Listen, I have a meet and greet tomorrow night. I need you there."

"I'm not really up to it, Dad, I still feel kind of sick... Doctor says to avoid stress..."

"Bullshit, you're coming. You'll be fine," he said firmly going into his home office.

"Tristan, will you excuse me a moment, I just need to speak with him..."

"Sure," he said passively sitting on the couch.

I needed to give that asshole a piece of my mind. I followed him into his office, closing the door behind me.

"Dad, I'm sick! I don't want to go to this stupid meet and greet."

"Tough luck, kid, suck it up and take one for the team."

"No! That's not fair! We always have to do this stupid fake election shit and compromise for you, but never can you do us the curtesy of compromising for us! I told you I was sick! I don't feel like smiling if I'm hurting, or shitting my pants in front of all those people."

"Just take some Pepto, you spoiled shit, you'll be fine."

"Fuck off!"

I stormed out of the office and walked straight towards Tristan. 

"Are you okay, Miles?"

"I'm fine," I said bitterly, "There's a slight change of plans though, we're doing our homework anywhere but here, and I'll buy you dinner."

"Um... Okay." Tristan put his books in his satchel, and once on his shoulder, I took his hand and dragged him upstairs to my bedroom. I quickly changed into jeans and a sweater, throwing the bottle of anti-diarrheal into my backpack along with my computer. I called for a cab to pick us up. Then we went down to the entrance to wait for it. And when it picked us up I felt my nerves ease with every passing inch of distance it created between me and that insufferable dick. Tristan seemed to patiently wait for the tension to pass.

I became more sociable when we arrived at a wifi diner a little further out of the neighbourhood.

"Sorry about all of this Tristan... Order anything you want."

"Are you fighting with your Dad or something?"

"That was what a typical conversation between us is like. It was actually pretty tame. I guess he just really got on my nerves this time."

And then, Tristan surprised me.

If I had had this issue with Maya around, just like with anyone else, it would've been met with a "boohoo-rich-kid-response". Winston would've shown sympathy, but not really have been able to get it. He's never been big on other people's points of view. 

Tristan's eyes almost glistened with the most genuine empathy I had ever seen. My heart was beating just a little harder. He put a hand to my arm and told me we could blow off the meet and greet together.

And I was so compelled to... I wanted to kiss him...

I wanted to kiss him.

I'd never really taken the time to seriously consider being with guys... But but somehow, I found myself undeniably feeling for the very special one that sat next to me in this diner booth with cerulean gems for eyes, and rose petal pink silk lips.

And I forgot everything. I forgot I had knots in my stomach but was very aware of the butterflies. I forgot my Dad was an insufferable dick. Possibly sociopathic. I forgot that Maya...

I forgot everything.

And his eyes beamed at me so beautifully against the city line in the window, as the sky was a kaleidoscopic swirl of colours. 

And all of these feelings struck me within seconds.

And I kissed him.

And our lips tore apart for a moment, both of us wondering if this was actually happening, then kissing agains. This time with arms wrapped around each other and hands desperately grasping at each other. I just didn't want to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got sprung, and it's mating season for my breed of weirdos, and I spent a nice long hardy session listening to Samba and Bossa Nova so I got poetic and romantic...


	3. Chapter 3

Tristan and I have another date tonight. 

And I'm nervous about it... I've decided that I'd wear my dark jeans, they seem to be more forgiving of my... Manifestations of arousal...  
I caught my flustered reflection in the mirror and took a long cooling breath.

"Miles," Frankie called as she eased through the my bedroom door. "What's up, Frankenstein?"

"Could you help me with this math problem?"

"Sure, let's make it quick, though, I've got plans with Tristan..."

"Is that why you're flustered?"

"I'm not..." I was going to deny it, but my face felt even hotter, and a small smile on my face was giving it away. "Don't be weird about it, or anything, but, I like Tristan a lot... And we're seeing each other... We're dating."

Frankie smiled at me. She pondered, then looked back at me and smiled a question mark filled smile. "Does that mean you're gay?"

"No... I really did like those girls. But I really like Tristan... And I have feelings for him..."

Frankie frowned, but in a thoughtful kind of furrowed brow, then lightened her expression before saying "okay," delightfully but with finality.

"I have to get going, but I can tell you right now, that's the wrong formula."

"Thanks, Miles."

***

Tris and I went to an independent theatre to watch a screening of Casablanca. There was something about the red velvet curtains and the ornate baroque burnished gold frames that made this old theatre seem like perfect setting for Tristan's theatre loving self. Like his mild brassy voice, blue eyes and pucker against this vintage setting made admiring him feel like a 1950's golden age of Hollywood glamour movie. This old theatre was also perfect because, the dark dim lighting was great for discretely stealing kisses and holding hands.

I had a hot dog, and Tris snuck in a bag a strawberries, that he would snack on as I gave his neck sweet silent raspberries ^.^

I didn't want the night to end. 

We snuck into an old abandoned building and watched the Toronto city twilight from the roof. We took a selfie together on my phone, cheek to cheek. 

"You hardly ever grin this much, Miles," Tristan said as he looked at the picture. I smiled at him sadly. "What's wrong?" Tristan asked.  
"I don't want us to be a secret anymore... I want to post it to Facebook."

"Miles what about..."

"Tris," I interrupted, "I'm clearly into you... Will you please stop being scared? Let's just call it what it is; you're my boyfriend."

Tristan looked so surprised. I took his arm and turned his face towards mine, and watched his expression melt into a smile.

"You aren't scared? Do your parents know you've been making out with a boy?"

"It doesn't matter what they think, it's the truth. I'm clearly very attracted to you. I like you a lot... And I'm not afraid. Not when you make me feel so... I don't know... Good... I can't describe it..." I said, cheeks flushing.

Most often I initiated kisses, but this time, it's like he knew that I felt vulnerable, so he clutched my hand, kissing it before slowly easing into a really sweet soft one on my lips.

"Okay... Let's talk about going public. I think we should tell our close friends and parents first."

I stole a quick peck. "Sure thing, Tris."

***  
It was starting to get late, and Tristan was supposed to be headed home for his curfew. Even if there was an understanding that our hand holding, our kisses and hugs should be done with discretion, as we were stepping out of that building and heading for Tristan's place, I didn't let go of his hand, and I kissed him... Publicly. There was no one we know around us as far as I knew and it was a late night, so I kissed him again. I wanted to taste what it would feel like for us to go public. It was an obnoxious, long, sweet kiss. We both really closed eyes and gave ourselves to its sweetness. Our lips reluctantly tore apart when I was startled by a couple quick flashes of light that seeped through my closed eyelids.

I then walked him to his house.

***

When I returned home, I was reminded that I have a sensitive stomach, and that I had no business eating from the concession stand. I went to bed nursing a bad stomach ache and thinking back to tender moments between Tristan and I. His image in my mind definitely took the edge off my stomach ache. I was exhausted and somehow managed to sleep through the pain. 

It felt like no sooner did my eyelids get impossibly heavy, that I drifted asleep, I was woken up by a pillow thudding into my face.

"What the fuck is this?" My father thundered. 

All I could do was moan. I felt nauseous. 

"Wake up, you spoiled shit, and tell me what the fuck this is!"

"I didn't do anything... I went to the campaign rally, I haven't skipped school... What are you even talking about?" I sat up and curled into myself. I was starting to really open my eyes and realize...

My father abruptly took my face in one hand, more than just firmly digging his fingers into my jaw, while holding his phone inches from my face. "Look at that!"

Somehow, that bold move I'd done the night before, kissing Tristan out where I thought no one would pay us any mind, was photographed and all over the local news. 

My eyes got wide. I looked at the picture, then up at his furious expression, and ice cold eyes. I wasn't sure what he'd do to me, at that point. It was pretty clear that he wasn't thrilled I was with a guy. He pushed my face away. He stood, turning around like he couldn't look at me, running his fingers through his hair out of frustration.

"We're you trying to fuck up my campaign? Congratulations, Miles."

The flash of light must've been a hired photographer from one of the opponents.

"It's not about this stupid campaign... I actually really like Tristan..." I told him.

He stood there, eerily silent, not moving. I stood. He stormed out of my room. A tear burst from my eye. I shouldn't have been surprised to discover another way my father didn't accept me. Another way I'd managed to disappoint him. And then I wiped my wet eyes off the sleeve of my shoulder and was left with anger.

I marched down to his home office, where he usually went when he was upset about something .

"I really care about him! But you have to go make this about your stupid campaign?"

"I know you. You just want attention."

"Fuck you! You don't know a damned thing!"

He stood from his desk, swiftly reaching over and grabbed me by the collar, forcing me forward and having my already sore and tender middle collide with the edge of the hard wooden desk. I gasped in pain.

"You better hope we can fix this," he threatened, waving his phone with the picture of Tristan and I on the screen at my face. He let go of me, and slammed the phone against the desk, shattering the screen. He picked it up, groaning "fuck" as he threw it at the wall. He put a cloth to where the glass shards cut his bleeding palm and fingers. 

I stormed out.

It seems his publicist, Marina from the PR team thought a "gay" son would make for great publicity and attract votes from the LGBTQ community. My father's LGBTQ vote was suffering.

***

The wave of nausea passed. I was left with these awful dull cramps. I didn't want to look at my father. But I thought that I should pop down and get some tea. Get all the questions from my mom and the twins.

"Honey, who's this boy in the picture?"

"It's Tristan. We've been spending some time together. He's my boyfriend." I wanted to be firm. I could feel my Dad get uncomfortable as I told mom.

"You guys are official!?" Frankie asked candidly. She interrupted her bite of scrambled eggs to ask.

"All I know is that I really want to be with Tristan."

My dad set his napkin down, clearing his throat and excused himself. He mumbled bitterly about remembering to check something in the office.

It really stung that he'd done that. No matter what I did, I was always some little shit. I think my mom sensed that. If only she'd known how cruel he really was to me.

She decided to play peace keeper. "I'd like to meet your boyfriend, Miles. He's welcome to join us for dinner."

"Thanks, mom."

Hunter was lost in his video game on his phone. He looked up for a moment to give me a small nod and a smile.

"Are you going to have anything for breakfast, Miles," my mom asked.

"No. My stomach is just... " I had to take a moment to breathe, and wrap my arms around my stomach a little tighter, "killing me..."

"You're feeling a little warm," she said as she gently caressed my cheek.

I excused myself. Promising I'd have a couple Tylenol and a glass of water, before having a rest. Before doing either of those things I desperately needed to put a phone call in to Tristan and let him know what was going on. He wasn't answering my texts or calls.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile at Tristan's house...

“GOOOOOOOOOOD MORNING!”

I was obnoxiously woken by a short blondish woman in her early forties… Okay not  
just any woman. My mom.

“Tristan, honey, today is a very special day!”

“Erm… how so?” I dared to ask in my half lucid stupor.

“It is, drum roll, family breakfast day!”

My mom had a habit of inventing these days just so she could sort of force everyone to spend time together. It was annoying in the moment but always a sweet thing she does.

I got up, brushed my teeth. Tried to see if there was something I could do to get my hair less chaotic looking. Nope. Put on a hat. Found the secret knitted purple socks my Gran made me for my birthday and slipped them on… Since it was just the fam, and we were just doing breakfast, my sweats weren’t going anywhere.

(They were actually the sweats I borrowed from Miles that time a few of us got together and had a food fight. I have yet to return them. It’s just this on going inside joke I have - with myself - that I’m in Miles’ pants XD)

So I grabbed my phone and headed down to the lovely breakfast nook off the kitchen of our good ole Toronto townhouse, and felt guilty that I missed his 'Goodnight Gorgeous <3' text message. And just as I was about to unlock my phone and greet him, my mom snatched my phone from my fingers.

“First rule of family breakfast day is no phones.”

She put the phone in a basket on the counter with hers, my dad’s and my brother Owen’s phone - Owen came down from university to visit this weekend. I let bygones be bygones. It was like 8 on a Sunday, surely he was still asleep.

“Nice hat,” Owen teased.

“Nice haircut,” I jabbed back.

Our dad sort of gave us a look, as to say ‘none of this bullshit please, I haven’t had any coffee yet’ as he poured cream in his mug.

“So boys,” he went on to say, while my mom was putting the finishing touches to breakfast, “What’s going on with you?”

“Just getting through my last assignments before finals. Thought I’d come down and take a break, I can’t think anymore…”

My dad and my brother went on about how university was hard, and my dad gave him tips about how to get past it, and let him know that third year would probably be better. It was totally boring.

My mind kept drifting into memories and day dreams and fantasies about Miles. I got myself a glass of lemon water from the fridge, and couldn’t help but smile as a montage of Miles and I kissing, holding hands and hugging played in my head. My dad noticed… I quickly wiped the smile off and sat down. I needed to cool down, I was starting to get a bit of a semi. I just sipped on the water and tried to relax. My dad and my brother continued their conversation. 

I kept looking at the basket, wondering if Miles had woken up, and if he would call or text.

“Alright,” my mom said, with far more enthusiasm than anyone should have at 8:30 am on a Sunday morning. “I’ve made some breakfast favourites.”

“Huevos rancheros, for Daniel,” (Daniel - my dad) “ Bacon, Italian sausage, and chocolate chip pancakes for Owen…” Everyone’s face would sort of light up with gratitude as my mom would set the plates in front of them. “Blueberry waffles and a yogurt parfait for me, and last but not least, for my baby, a very sensible bowl of oatmeal, with fresh raspberries, and a side of grapefruit,” she said kissing me on the forehead. I do have to watch my figure, you understand.

“Thank you, Kathleen,” (Kathleen - my momma) my dad said gratefully. 

Everyone gave my mom their thanks. Then, she said she was just happy to be with her family. Oh the level of cheesiness…

“So, Tristan, I’d like to know what was making you smile just now,” my dad said, catching me off guard. I choked on some oatmeal.

“Oh nothing…” which was the probably the worst answer I could give a prying Milligan. Everyone sort of looked at me suspiciously. I tried to focus on my bowl of oatmeal as I felt my face go hot, and probably very visibly red.

“He’s embarrassed about something…” my brother so cleverly deduced.

“He doesn’t get embarrassed with us too often…” my mother continued. My mom was probably thinking of that time I got sick at choir in 4th grade…

“I’m not… embarrassed…” I tried to deny. It was a boldfaced lie and everyone knew it.

“He’s smiling, blushing, and looking at the basket all the time,” my dad continued.

“Aaaah,” Owen said with an all knowing look. “He has a boyfriend!” I choked on more oatmeal

My parents were looking at me and they were waiting for answers.

“Um… so I’m kind of seeing this guy…” I had all this anxiety like was being interrogated.

“What’s his name?” my mom asked.

“Miles…”

“As in Hollingsworth? The rich kid!?” Owen asked. “He’s gay?”

“I guess…”

“We’ll have to meet him then, won’t we?” my dad said, sounding very protective and fatherly.

“Well I mean, we haven’t really made anything official yet… he hasn’t come out to his family and I… I don’t know…”

“Well son, before things become serious, I want to get to know who you’re seeing,” he said with finality.

“We’ve talked about this with the counsellor, honey, we want to be able to guide you through healthy relationships,” my mom said softly.

And then it got quiet and awkward. My parents were encroaching on the name that won’t be named: Yates.

“Okay. I’ll ask him to come to dinner soon.”

After breakfast we got our phones back. It was such of relief because we were without phones for almost two hours, talking about things. It was like, really rough.

I saw that I’d missed two calls from Miles and received three texts saying we needed to talk.

“Tristan…?” my brother interrupted me as I was frowning at my phone.

“Yeah?”

“I think Miles is out to his family…”

He held up his phone showing a twitter pic of Miles and I kissing last night. Oh shit. 

I dialled him but there was no answer. I tried again, and still nothing. I texted him saying I was going to come to his house within the hour and jumped in the shower. If I had to guess, shit hit the fan when this pic got back to Miles’ family. If we were going to have a serious talk, I needed to be fresh. Smell good.


End file.
